Keras: Guardians of Hades Series Book 7

by Heaton, Felicity

He had worried her again.

  “You seem brighter now.” Her soft voice held a confidence he hadn’t heard in it in a long time, showed him how happy that made her.

  He nodded. “I am feeling better today, but I couldn’t sleep.”

  As loath as he had been to leave her arms, he had needed air, had been restless with a need for exercise, to test the limits of his recovering body.

  “There is too much on your mind,” she remarked and when he slid her a questioning look, she added, “You always used to be restless when you had too much on your mind.”

  He smiled and her eyes warmed as she saw it, that look transporting him back through the centuries.

  “You looked at me like that… a knowing gaze that said you could read my mind—”

  She cut him off. “At your grand banquet to celebrate your coming of age. I almost didn’t come.”

  That confession leaving her lips had his smile falling.

  “You did?” He couldn’t believe that, hated to think about how different his life might have been if she hadn’t attended the ridiculous ball that his parents had thrown for him.

  She nodded and lifted her hand, tucked her hair behind her ear on the side where her braids had once been. The bracelet on his wrist warmed against his skin, and he wanted to thank her again for what she had done, but she rejected his gratitude whenever he showed it so he focused on their current topic.

  Partly because he was enjoying reminiscing.

  Mostly because it put a light in Enyo’s eyes that brightened her entire face.

  He wasn’t the only one who had been looking tired and worn down this last week.

  Seeing her looking brighter made him feel better too.

  “I still remember everything about that day,” he said and settled on a grey boulder.

  She picked the one opposite him on the other side of the path, leaned back and planted her hands against the rock to support her. Cassandra had lent her clothes. Ones that made him want to have a word with the witch whenever he gazed at Enyo. No man should see his beautiful goddess dressed in tight leather trousers and a figure-hugging boned corset.

  No one other than him anyway.

  He shoved his mind back on track.

  “Gods and goddesses from all the realms had come to fawn over me and all I had wanted was to escape.” A smile teased the corners of his mouth as he recalled standing beside his father, casting wishes for everything from the entire room disappearing, to him being rendered invisible. Having to witness the lesser gods and goddesses humbling themselves to Hades had made him feel awkward. Having them turn their shallow praise on him had been nothing short of embarrassing. “And then Ares, the illustrious god of war himself had stormed into the room, and behind him, caught up in his shadow, had been something far more interesting. You… with that nervous edge to your eyes as you glanced around at everyone.”

  Suddenly, Keras had wanted to stay.

  Had started wishing the night would never end.

  Enyo smiled fondly. “I hadn’t wanted to go with him. I had been angry with him about something at the time and I had almost run off and hidden so he couldn’t take me down to the Underworld.”

  A soft sigh escaped her.

  That light in her eyes grew brighter.

  And a little awkward.

  “I had thought nothing good could come from a realm of the dead.” She held her hand up when he frowned at her. “But then I had walked into your father’s temple, into that grand soiree, and I had set eyes on you standing there beside your father where he sat on his black throne… and although the resemblance between you had been striking as the rumours had foretold, you evoked two very different feelings in me. I had feared Hades.”

  What feeling had he stirred in her? He wanted to ask, stared at her and willed her to tell him, but she remained silent. When she looked as if she might make her excuses and leave, he pushed himself to speak.

  “And somehow we ended up gravitating towards each other, bonding in a quiet corner of the room, watching my father and your brother lapping up the praise of everyone present while they both did their damnedest not to end up in a fight.” Keras hadn’t realised before that night that Enyo’s brother had pursued Keras’s mother once, much to the irritation of Hades.

  “Gods, remembering the old days feels good.” Enyo sighed and tipped her head back, looked up at the gold-edged clouds that drifted overhead.

  “It does.” It was lifting the weight from his shoulders, had things fading to the back of his mind as he enjoyed the quiet garden with Enyo, his mind filling with memories of her rather than the thousand worries that plagued him.

  “It is nice to see you smile again,” she said and then sobered. “I am sorry for—”

  He held his hand up. “It’s fine, Enyo. Stop apologising. I am… part of me is glad that you did it.”

  She picked at her trousers. Glanced at him. “And the other part?”

  He turned his cheek to her and focused on the horizon, seeking courage that almost failed him, and let the words slip from his lips. “That part is just glad you came to see me.”

  He looked at her out of the corner of his eye when she said nothing, catching the faint blush that coloured her cheeks.

  “What did you think about me?” he asked, and when a crinkle formed between her eyebrows, he added. “You said you were afraid of my father. That we stirred two different feelings in you. What did I make you feel?”

  Her cheeks darkened and her pale green eyes dropped to her knees as she whispered so low he swore he was mistaken.

  “Bewitched.”

  His heart beat a little harder at that, nerves rising to swamp him, causing his courage to falter as he stared at her. The last few days rolled up on him, a few things striking him hard, shaking him. They had slept together, and she had held him to her and tended to him, and now he could see in her eyes that she truly cared about him.

  And she wasn’t married.

  He had known of her engagement from the moment they had become friends, and gods, it had hurt when his father had taken him aside and told him of it, but not as much as it had wounded him when his family had received a Messenger centuries later.

  With a formal announcement of her betrothal.

  Keras had been so angry, had felt so powerless and crushed because he had convinced himself that she would marry him instead one day, that it had utterly wrecked him.

  Had unleashed the darker side of his blood.

  When she had come to him to tell him herself, he had been cold to her, and he had spent two hundred years regretting that. He regretted leaving her that day without so much as a real goodbye.

  But he had a second chance now.

  She was here, and they had both revealed more to each other in only a few days than they had in all the centuries they had been friends.

  This time, he wouldn’t let her slip through his grasp.

  She would be his.

  Chapter 15

  On a scale of weird to straight up freaking out there, today was fast becoming the latter.

  Not only was Keras sitting on the cream couch facing the large flat screen TV with Enyo beside him, both of them looking as if they had been together for years and there was nothing odd about any of it, not even the fact his older brother was watching the damned television.

  But Cal had just popped out of his portal behind Ares and casually tossed something out there that Ares was having a difficult time processing.

  He twisted on the couch to face Cal where he stood in the middle of the room, between the TV area and the dining side.

  “I’m sorry, what now?” Ares frowned at his little brother, and if this was a joke, he was going to tear the little shit to pieces.

  Beside him, Megan broadcasted nerves so strongly that Ares was in danger of losing his temper.

  “You getting hard of hearing in your old age?” Cal glared right back at him. “I said, Mum and Dad want to see you, Megan and Keras. Now like. Emphasis on the now.
Like… now. Imagine me booming it like only Dad can do.”

  “So whispering it,” Valen muttered without taking his eyes off the TV. “You guys do something bad I don’t know about? If the answer is yes, why wasn’t I invited?”

  Keras sighed.

  Valen got the message and fell silent.

  “This isn’t a funny joke, Cal,” Ares growled as Megan’s rubbing grew more frantic.

  So frantic that Cassandra’s cat, Milos, thought she was summoning him and went to her, hopping up onto her lap and giving her an expectant look.

  Or maybe the guardian deity was just sensing her unease.

  Panic.

  Ares said it like it was.

  It was fucking blind, balls out panic.

  He stroked her knee through her jeans. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

  “Don’t shoot the messenger. But please… do go… because Dad had that look in his eyes, and I don’t want to be held accountable for you all refusing to obey the summons.” Cal held his hands up and tossed Ares a pleading look.

  “Were his eyes blue at least?” Daimon eased into a more comfortable position where he leaned against the wide footrest beside Cassandra’s legs. “Would it kill us to get another couch?”

  Esher muttered something about the aesthetic and having to replace all the couches so they matched.

  “Shut up about the fucking furniture.” The leash on Ares’s temper snapped.

  Maybe Megan wasn’t the only one panicking.

  She rubbed his leg now, her touch doing nothing to calm his nerves.

  “Why would Dad want to see us now?” Ares looked from Megan to Keras.

  Keras pursed his lips. “I can guess why Father wishes to see me. I would imagine the reason he wants to see you is because summoning Megan without you would cause a ruckus… although he appears to have caused a ruckus by including you.”

  His older brother waggled a finger towards Megan’s stomach.

  “My best guess is Mother wants to see how she’s doing.”

  Which made sense, and made Ares feel like an overreacting dick.

  He sank into the couch beside her, all of the tension rushing from him, leaving him boneless.

  He raised his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbed it and tried to ease the headache he could feel building. This was all getting to be too much for him. When Megan had announced she was pregnant, he had been over the moon, more excited than she had been.

  The closer they came to her due date, the more that excitement turned to chilling fear.

  He couldn’t sleep for thinking about what might happen to her, and not only when the time came and she had to give birth. He worried about her constantly, was on his guard at all times waiting for an attack to hit them, dreading her being in the firing line, and convinced she was going to end up in the sights of their enemy.

  He felt sure that he hadn’t slept since he had woken from his gate-closing-induced coma.

  Every day that passed, the tension inside him cranked a little tighter, pushing him a little closer to the edge.

  He wasn’t sure he could handle this anymore.

  He was beginning to see why his father had become an overbearing, overprotective demon whenever his mother had been close to giving birth to one of his brothers.

  The slightest thing had sent Hades off the deep end.

  Like, really slight.

  One time, Marek had belched after dinner and startled their mother.

  He had been banished to the north wing for ten days, only released back into the family once Valen had come kicking and screaming into the world.

  Keras stood and gave him a look that said they were doing this.

  Ares blew out his breath and stood too, gently took hold of Megan’s hand and helped her onto her feet.

  Panic lit her beautiful face. “I should change… put on something nicer. And do my hair. And maybe put on some make-up.”

  He smiled softly and stroked his thumb over the back of her hand. “You look great as you are. But maybe we should lose this.”

  She scowled when he picked a piece of potato chip off her mulberry flowing top. “It’s not my fault she likes junk food. I’m blaming you for those genes.”

  He shrugged.

  “Come on, beautiful.” He tugged her forwards, leading her around the couch, his heart drumming faster as he approached Cal and thought about taking Megan with him to the Underworld.

  To his parents.

  Gods, they had better be nice to her.

  One word out of place and he was liable to erupt.

  Keras came up beside her, a serious edge to his green eyes that told Ares he wasn’t alone in his need to protect Megan.

  “All will be well,” Keras said and held his hand out to Megan.

  She slipped her free one into it, took a deep breath and nodded.

  A shimmering blue portal formed in front of them, Calistos’s favour mark at work.

  “It’ll take you to the palace,” Cal said.

  Ares stepped forwards, and stopped when Megan didn’t move. He glanced at her. She stared at the portal, fear building in her eyes, trickling into him through his hand. He squeezed hers lightly.

  “Nothing bad will happen, sweetheart. Mum will be there,” he murmured softly, trying to soothe her, aware that it wasn’t the Underworld or his mother that she was afraid of.

  It was his father.

  “Just need a minute and then I’ll be peachy.” She glanced at him, her dark eyes filled with worry.

  Ares feathered his fingers along her jaw and brushed her shoulder-length brown hair behind her ear, clearing it from her face. “Take all the time you need.”

  He lingered with his palm against her jaw, staring down into her eyes, putting every fleck of gold in them to memory as a need rose within him, the darker side of his blood coming to the fore to roar at him to protect her.

  He intended to do just that.

  She blew out her breath again and nodded, and this time when he and Keras moved forwards, she came with them. She tipped her chin up as they stepped into the portal, squeezed his hand so hard it actually hurt as light swirled around them, and didn’t loosen her hold as they emerged on the other side.

  Rather than appearing outside the sprawling complex, the portal brought them to one of the elegant drawing rooms.

  Hades turned away from the window that overlooked the garden, his blue gaze settling straight on Megan.

  Ares breathed a sigh of relief.

  At least his father had chosen a more calming location than his imposing throne room, and wasn’t wearing his armour. A black tunic hugged his torso, and matching trousers were like a second skin on his legs, tucked into knee-high riding boots with silver clasps.

  Persephone immediately rose from her seat on one of the lavish gilt-framed crimson couches and crossed the room to Megan, sweeping her up into a tight embrace that had Ares growling.

  “Gentle.”

  His mother pulled back, issuing him a look that asked him whether he had really just dared to give her an order when it came to being careful.

  Fine, so the phrase bull in a china shop had probably been invented for him, but this was Megan they were talking about. With her, he was a lamb, as gentle as a kitten.

  Gods, she had him wrapped around her little finger.

  And he loved it.

  Just as much as he loved her.

  “Satisfied?” he said, not keeping the bite from his voice as he looked at his father.

  Hades arched an eyebrow at him.

  One that screamed ‘temper’.

  Ares imagined Keras was giving him the same look.

  Persephone moved to him next, hugging Keras tightly, holding him for so long Ares began to wonder if she was ever going to let him go.

  “Let me look at you.” She finally pushed Keras back and looked him over. “Oh, you do look better.”

  Tears filled her eyes.

  “My love.” Hades reached for her, a wounded look crossi
ng his face, as if her pain was his to share.

  Or maybe he just wanted to take it away for her.

  Persephone didn’t go to him. She gave him an uncharacteristic hard look, a mulish twist to her lips, and Hades’s hand fell to his side.

  Ares was familiar with the expression that settled on his father’s face, wore it quite often himself. Wrapped around her little finger.

  And in the doghouse.

  His mother moved back to Megan and fussed over her.

  When she placed her hand on Megan’s bump, her green eyes lit up. “Oh, how she kicks. She is strong, my lo—”

  She cut herself off and the soft look she had been about to give Hades turned into a glare.

  “Mother,” Keras started. “It really was my decision.”

  “Not yours entirely. He gave you the pills, and he said nothing to me about them.” Persephone issued another withering look at Hades.

  His father’s shoulders sagged.

  Ares had definitely been there.

  “Women scorned, eh?” he said and Megan rolled her eyes at him.

  He fell silent as he stared at her, finding it strange but weirdly right to see her in this room—in this realm. She belonged here. He felt that deep in his bones. She was stronger here, and would grow stronger the more time she spent in this world. The dark circles that had been beneath her eyes were already fading and she had more colour, and gods, it felt good to see her brighter again.

  It felt good knowing she was safe and protected, and that nothing could touch her.

  “And we shall transform the unused wing of the house into a nursery for you and your mother.” Persephone bent over and spoke to Megan’s belly, her soft tone bright and filled with the excitement that was written all over her face.

  Hades looked as if he wanted to say something but was biting his tongue. Ares could imagine what it was.

  Megan and the baby didn’t need an entire wing to themselves. Megan wouldn’t enjoy it. She liked being close to others, in the thick of things, surrounded by her family and friends.

  Which is what made this so damned hard.

  Ares released her hand.

  Megan’s eyes instantly leaped to meet his.

  Panic washed over them, her expression stricken as she twisted away from Persephone and reached her hand out to him.